


The Finest Ass This Side of The Mississippi

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: His Little Slut [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Amputation, Amputation Kink, Amputee, Anal Gaping, Cock Rings, Dark, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Past Brainwashing, Threats of Castration, paying for sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 00:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: Harley's day is filled with clientsAnd so is he





	The Finest Ass This Side of The Mississippi

**Author's Note:**

> This is wow. Check tags, tell me if I need more.

Brandon leaned back in the armchair, one leg slung over the other as he counted out the bills in his hands, half listening to the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh and the noises of his pretty little slut eagerly reaching his peak.

After counting through the bills twice to ensure the proper amount had been paid, Brandon glanced over to double check that he’d remembered to strap Harley into his cock ring. Not that he didn’t love the sounds his pretty little thing made while getting fucked when he was overstimulated, but some clients didn’t want the little slut to cum before they did.

Thankfully, the ring was on, Harley’s balls were red and swollen as the bitch keened and whined in desperation, uselessly trying to hump against the air where he hung in the sex swing, the current client fucking hard and fast into his ass.

“I paid to cum inside of ‘im,” the man grunted when he caught Brandon watching.

“I know,” Brandon replied .

“Then why the fuck you watchin’?”

“I’m not watching  _ you _ ,” Brandon muttered as he turned his attention away, grabbing the metal money box from the floor, popping it open and setting the cash inside.

He didn’t look back until Harley let out a little wail, indicating his hungry little hole had been filled with the client’s thick, warm cum. Brandon hummed as he stashed the metal box under the armchair, standing and stretching his arms over his head, stretching out his back as the client pulled out and slapped Harley’s ass before buttoning himself up.

“I’ll definitely be recommending him to others,” the man said as Brandon led him out of Harley’s room and down the hall to the ‘back door’ where he took clients.

“Good to know you enjoyed him,” Brandon said. “And for an extra five dollars, if you give me your phone number I’ll send you some pictures of him.”

The man hummed. “Before or after others touch him?”

“Before for five dollars, ten for at the end of the day,” Brandon replied. “Fifteen for both.”

The client narrowed his eyes, thinking. “How soon would I get the pictures?”

“I’d text them so you’d get the five dollar ones in the next ten minutes. If you go for ten or fifteen, it wouldn’t be until later since he’s taking clients until five and it’s only…” Brandon paused to check his watch. “Eleven at the moment.”

The client hummed, idly scratching his chest as he thought it through. Eventually, he shrugged and pulled out his wallet. 

“I don’t see why not,” he agreed, looking through his cash as he tried to decide which package to purchase. “I needed some new material to get off to. 

“Don’t we all?”

“Yeah, haha. Oh, does you're slut have a name?”

“Harley,” Brandon replied. “But I typically just call him ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’.”

The client raised an eyebrow as he fished fifteen dollars out of his wallet. “And he responds to it?”

“Oh, eagerly,” Brandon replied with a smile, counting out the money before slipping it into his pocket in exchange for his phone. “Here, just put in your name and number and I’ll be sure to send you the pictures this afternoon.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” the man said, nodding to Brandon before he left and made his way to his car. 

Checking his watch once more, Brandon returned to the room, smiling when Harley squealed at the sight of him.

“Hey, little slut,” he cooed, walking over to crouch down so his and Harley’s faces were even. “Hanging in there?”

The joke was because Harley was suspended from the ceiling in a custume made sex swing with restraints that held all four of his stumps out to the side. Of course, the joke was lost on Harley though he squealed as Brandon laughed at his own humor.

Shaking his head fondly, Brandon straightened up and pulled up the camera on his phone, taking a few pictures of Harley’s leaking cock and swollen red balls before moving on to take several decent shots of his ass.

“You’re such a good little slut, sweetheart,” Brandon murmured as he stroked a hand through Harley’s curls. “And good little sluts get rewards, don’t they?”

Not that those words really meant anything to Harley. Brandon smiled down at him, continuing to stroke his hand through Harley’s hair as the slut whined, desperate for release.

“Is your little hole hungry again?” Brandon cooed in a mostly mocking tone, stepping away and pulling up the notes app where he kept a list of the day’s clients as well as how they wanted Harley prepped before they arrived.

The next client would be paying  _ four times _ the usual amount to use Harley’s ass  _ and _ mouth and cum inside both. Ignoring Harley’s desperate little wails, Brandon moved over to the chest containing Harley’s gags and other toys, rooting around until he found the spider gag the client had requested.

Humming quietly to himself to fill the silence, Brandon pulled the gag out and returned to Harley, murmuring soft words as he worked the gag into Harley’s soft mouth, firmly locking it behind the other’s head.

“There you go,” he crooned. “So pretty with your plush little lips forced open like that.”

Harley whined, hiccupping on a little sob, tears filling his blue eyes. Brandon clicked his tongue in disapproval as he looked down at his phone, scrolling through the client’s of the day.

“I know,” he murmured, scratching gently behind Harley’s ear. “You wanna cum so badly, sweetheart. But the clients prefer you with your balls nice and read and heavy and who am I to deny them?”

Harley whimpered, pleading with his eyes as Brandon straightened up and took a small step back.

“Only five more hours,” Brandon told him as though Harley had any concept of time in this room with no windows, illuminated with only artificial light. The slut whined but Brandon ignored his noise in favor of leaving the room at the sound of the doorbell.

The next client had arrived.

………………

By the time five PM rolled around and the last client was shown out, the door locked behind the older man, Harley was a sticky, shaking mess, hole puffy and gaping, fluttering around nothing as Harley sobbed, pained and desperate, rocking in his suspension bondage as he fought to reach orgasm through the cock ring.

Brandon took his time taking the final pictures of Harley’s swollen hole and cum stained backside, taking a seat on the armchair nearby and  _ slowly _ going through the contacts the clients added to make sure everyone gets the correct pictures they paid for.

He’d draw this out longer, getting a drink, filling Harley’s food and water bowl, but he can’t deny that he’s also a little desperate, cock straining in his pants. So once the pictures were sent, Brandon stood and removed his socks, shoes, jeans, and boxers before walking over to stand in front of Harley who sobbed quietly but dutifully let his mouth fall open.

Brandon groaned as he sunk his cock into that soft, wet heat. He knew Harley was tired and desperate, knew how much pain his little slut was in but  _ god _ that just made him even harder.

He didn’t last long, admittedly. And despite how desperate he was, how much pain he was in, Harley still dutifully swallowed down every drop.

“Good little slut,” Brandon murmured breathlessly, lazily carding a hand through Harley’s hair as he pulled his flaccid cock out of Harley’s lax mouth. “I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

So high strung from denial, Harley could only watch him with pitiful eyes as Brandon stepped back to stand behind him. The whore whined though the sound quickly turned into a loud moan when Brandon reached down and stroked his fingers over Harley’s red, throbbing cock.

“You’re going to cum as soon as I take this off, aren’t you?” he purred, rolling Harley’s swollen balls in his hand and allowing himself a smile at the slut’s shout. “Yeah, you are. And look at the floor. You’ve made such a fucking mess.”

He sighed, shaking his head fondly as he released Harley’s balls. “You’re gonna cum whether I give you permission or not. But I do love the little noises you make.”

And Harley did make noises, wailing and thrashing in the leather harness suspending him from the ceiling, cumming hard and adding to the mess on the floor as his orgasm was all but ripped from him.

Brandon stepped back to watch the show, moving to catch sight of Harley’s orgasm face, the amputee going lax in his bonds the moment his pleasure finished.

Brandon allowed him time to catch his breath and decide if he was going to pass out or not, busying himself with tidying the room and wiping up the floor under Harley.

Normally, he’d let his slut down to lick up the mess but one look at Harley’s lolling head told Brandon the other was currently down for the count.

Smiling, Brandon fished the silken blindfold out of the chest and moved over to carefully tie it around Harley’s eyes. With it, Harley couldn’t see anything but darkness which would indicate that it was still nighttime and he could go back to sleep.

He was trained that so long as the blindfold was on, it was nighttime (even if it wasn’t) and he was to sleep. It had taken a lot more rigorous trainings and punishments before Brandon managed to train him into understanding that the blindfold on meant for him to be quiet if he wasn’t going to sleep.

And oh, how Harley followed his rules beautifully.

After gathering up his clothes and shoes, slipping out of the room and locking the door behind himself, Brandon made his way to his own room.

Once he was showered and in a fresh change of clothes, he pulled out his phone and dialed an old friend of his.

“Thomas, hey!” he said cheerfully. “I had a question. Are you still in touch with the surgeon friend of yours who did Harley’s amputations?”

_ “I am.” _

“Great. Does he do castration?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
